


Advent calendar drabble #10

by begformercytwice



Series: Advent Calendar 2012 [10]
Category: Moon (2009)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/begformercytwice/pseuds/begformercytwice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Sam wakes up a little prematurely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advent calendar drabble #10

Sam Bell. His name was definitely Sam Bell. He could remember that, at least, somehow, but that was all he knew for sure. He thought there were some hazy memories of a wife and child, and a home, and a life, but that seemed so far away from the metal tomb in which he found himself.

It probably wasn't a tomb, he thought, as he tried not to panic. It was just a mistake; there'd be a way out. Somewhere there was a handle, or a light, a button to press, an alarm, anything at all. They couldn't have just left him here. There had to be someone watching him.

"Hello?" He tried to shout it, but his throat felt like it hadn't been used in decades, so it came out as a hoarse whisper. "I need help. Someone- please? Can anybody hear me?"

"Sam, just try to stay calm, okay?" The voice was oddly reassuring, if a little robotic. "You're going to be just fine. There's been a little mishap, but we'll have it resolved very soon."

"That's good to hear," said Sam. Maybe it was just his eyes reacting to the environment, but he could swear there were faint lines moving on the surface above him. Pulsating lines, in rhythm with his heart rate. Was he in a hospital? He didn't feel sick. He felt brand new. "Where am I? Who are you?"

"My name's GERTY, Sam, and you're in safe hands."

"So, you're getting me out?"

"I'm sorry, Sam, but I'm afraid it's not quite your time yet. I don't know why you awakened spontaneously. If I let you out now, the consequences could be terrible. I'm afraid I have no choice but to retire you ahead of schedule."

"Retire me? What does that- hey, you better not leave me in here! I'm warning you! Let me out! I'll kill you!"

"The procedure is painless, Sam, so please, don't make yourself agitated. It might make you happy to know that you would have served your purpose well. I see the tiny differences between you all, and you had a lot of potential."

"Potential... I..." he tried to say, but already he was drifting. The lines in front of him blurred and faded into the darkness. He tried to hold on to one coherent thought, that he was dying, that this person, or thing, that he'd never met, was killing him, that he'd never see his wife, his child, his home...

"I really am sorry, Sam; you have to believe me," said the voice, and he almost did, he almost believed that it was sorry that it was killing him. And in the peaceful fog that overcame him in those last few seconds, he almost found it in him to forgive.


End file.
